The point of fire drills isn’t to teach you to act orderly in the event of a fire. The point is to teach you that all fire alarms are drills, so in the event of a real fire, you act orderly because you think it’s just a drill.
does anyone else feel super self-conscious about practicing in front of other people, especially other musicians?
like i can’t quite articulate it but
practicing is something quite real, it’s the hours of work put into a piece before the final performance, it’s the process behind something that’s as perfect as you can get it
but the thing is, having someone else hear or see your practicing is letting them see everything imperfect about that process, and that makes me feel strangely vulnerable - the idea of people hearing all my drilling and stopping exercises and mistakes and frustration just makes me so self-conscious idk
having to have a jukebox in your igloo to play music
people making fake screenshots of rainbow puffles long before there were actual rainbow puffles
“dance or drill, just don’t stand still”
iceberg tipping parties in general
save the migrator
the april fools party where if you went to the mine shack you could walk around on the loading screen
the april fools party where the iceberg turned into an actual photograph of a bucket of ice
night vision goggles
pressing all the buttons on the switchbox 3000
easter egg hunts
the first medieval party with that giant dragon in the mine
trying to track rockhopper and flipping your shit when you got to be in the same room as him
the typing games
the big wigs catalog
orange inflatable furniture
having to pay 20 coins to remove your floor
asking everyone where this week’s pin was
hiding behind the chat bar
I could go on for far too long and I have got really sad while writing this because I’ve become a grown up and I will never be as eager to experience life as I was as a nine-year-old getting up at 6am to look at the new gift shop catalog
The sheet says gather three trials. The TA says five. You’re on the seventh and your partner is preparing another sample to test.
You measure the sample once and it says 0.5. You check again and it says 0.10. Again. 0.07. The number is never the same.
You still don’t know your lab partners name. You never knew their name.
You’re allowed to use the special instrument scale. A breeze blows through the room. The TA has to reconfigure the scale. Your time is over, and the next person walks into the room. A breeze follows them.
You put your pencil down for a second. You look back and it’s gone. There are three people in the room. Everybody else is using pens.
You walk into the room with a hair tie on your wrist. You set your equipment down as lab starts, and go to tie your hair back. Your hair tie is gone. You are the only girl in the lab right now.
The TA gives the safety lecture. The far right fume hood is not to be used. It doesn’t work. None of them work. The fire truck hasn’t been to the chemistry building in a few days anyway.
You pass by a dark room every day. It’s got a cleared to practice sign on it. Equipment is there and never dusty. You watch it from a distance every day. It’s never used.
A fire drill goes off. The TA assured you it’s just a test run. Sirens echo in the distance as you measure out exactly 0.45 mg of powder C.
You’re doing a calculation when you hear it: the distinct sound of thumping. The TA tells you it’s probably just the cadaver lab. Ignore it.
You walk into the lab. You stare at the TA, who stares back at you with the dead eyed gaze of a grad student on his fifth cup of coffee. You hand in your report and walk away silently, knowing you saw your future.
You have a lab next week. You still don’t have the grade from the last lab. Or the one before that. You don’t have any lab grades.
The booklet says the lab will take two and a half hours. The TA says an hour. You’ve been here for four, and no where near done.
You go to office hours. You wait the entire four hour time slot. Nobody is there. The next day the TA says nobody came to office hours.
You have a question on your lab due. You search for your TA’s email in your notes. You go to the website. They aren’t listed. You email your professor. They’ve never heard of them. Your TA smiles at you the next day.
On the first day of lab your TA introduces himself. His name is Matt, and he’s a grad student at the university. The other TA is named Lauren. They were your TA’s for your last lab. And the lab before that. They are the only TA’s you have ever seen.
Credit to @papalogia for like half of these. She gets the Struggle.
I give to you the rival sports team Klance AU you never wanted but are getting anyway because I have zero (0) self restraint:
I’m gonna say yolo and throw them into college bc college kids always have free time to do competitive sports and get scholarships and stuff so here we ARE in COLLEGE with SWIM TEAMS
Keith and Lance go to different schools but have been running into each other at swim meets for months and they’re always neck and neck in their times
Lance is the swim captain of his team and they represent the Blue Panthers from the state university and they’re one of the top teams in the league
Keith isn’t the swim captain but he’s kind of like the coach of the Red Lions? maybe their actual coach is a flake and someone needed to step in and actually Do Something, so he took over and all his teammates regard him as their coach/teammate duo bc he still swims with them, he just directs them kinda thing?
his drills are the most feared thing on the planet and everyone is terrified of Tuesday and Thursday night practices because inevitably Keith will make them do some sort of terrifying equivalent of suicides but in the water and everyone goes home sore and tired
so there’s a championship swim meet out of state and everyone’s been prepping for this for months and it’s a Big One
there’s always a pre-party for this kind of stuff, right?? well now there is, fuck it
Keith forbids his team to go because they need to be in their best shape for the morning swim trials and if he Hears One Word that any of them were there, someone gonna die
inevitably, his team goes lmao
he probably was swimming laps before bedtime when he hears the party raging on the floor above his own
(he’s an insomniac and has even more trouble when he’s sleeping in a hotel bed and swimming always helps tire him out)
annoyed, he goes to investigate and tell them to shut the fuck up bc SOME people have a competition tomorrow and starts banging on the door and Lance opens it with a flourish and a grin
Lance: GUYS JOSH IS BACK WITH MORE ICE
Lance: ….wait you’re not Josh
Keith: oh my god of course it would be you
Lance: HEY WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN
they start fighting immediately and then someone slips past the door behind Lance and Keith recognizes that hair and he shoves Lance aside to get into the hotel room and it’s one of his teammates oooooh boy he gon DIE
Keith just wordlessly points out the door and the few members of his team file out real fuckin quick bc they know they’re about to be reamed out
then Lance pushes Keith’s shoulder and calls him a buzzkill
Keith spins around and puts his palm on Lance’s chest and pushes him into the nearest wall and whispers all low and dangerous “I can’t wait to destroy you tomorrow.” then saunters off and calls over his shoulder “Enjoy your hangover!” and Lance is s h o o k
needless to say, Lance is hungover the next morning
the race is close, but Keith’s team places first and Lance’s second
Lance was the last swimmer so he’s hanging off the side of the pool and throws his goggle and cap on the floor and is cursing and wishing he hadn’t been the one to throw that party bc he fucked up and then he hears a small laugh
shocker: it’s Keith
Lance goes to glare up at him but Keith just pulled off his swim cap and his hair is tumbling down his shoulders like some brunette Adonis and Lance just gets angrier bc how can this guy be SO GOOD and also disgustingly attractive it’s like God is shitting on him it’s rude
going forward, it’s a total game on vibe with them and it’s such a back and forth between meets and it’s literally neck and neck with both of them pushing their teams harder than ever before and it’s wild
then there’s some big rager or kegger at some off-campus house and Keith is dragged out by his teammates as punishment for being such a hardass lately and “this is a great way to pull that stick out of your ass please don’t make me do fifty push ups for saying that okay i’m soRRY”
they walk in to some tall guy doing a hand stand on a keg and chugging upside down and his shirt has fallen down around his neck so he’s just this long, brown, toned stomach
Keith’s not blind, okay, so he admires the view but ultimately he’s just like …………….you’re all idiots and goes to leave except the guy gets off and lets out the grossest burp and wipes his face with this huge shit-eating grin
shocker: it’s Lance
Keith is shook
but he’s also immediately on the defensive and ready to fight so he gets all bristly until Lance spots him by the door with his friends and is like “hHEY yOu!” bc he’s loaded and he stumbles into Keith’s chest and pokes his collarbone and smiles even bigger and goes “betcha can’t do a keg stand”
shocker again: Keith does it bc who is he to turn down a challenge
long story short, they both end up making out in a coat closet and in the morning when they wake up in their respective beds after their friends dragged them home, they both remember it happening and groan and cover their faces with their hands
cue the awkward future swim meets and budding romance